


one hot dog please; shaken, not stirred

by Caynsie



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor keeps bringing dogs home, Failed Attempts at Humor, Gratuitous amounts of dogs, Hank is very done, M/M, Post-Pacifist Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 23:38:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15230577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caynsie/pseuds/Caynsie
Summary: Connor really, really likes dogs.





	one hot dog please; shaken, not stirred

**Author's Note:**

> So I had this thought of "Connor with a puppy" but then that turned into "Connor keeps finding dogs" and thus, this trash heap was born.
> 
> The title doesn't relate to the fic at all. It's just the name of the document on my desktop.

 

Hank lies in bed silently, staring up at the ceiling. He doesn't know why his life has become this way, but it is this way and he regrets all the choices that led up to this point. In his bed with him are six furry, smelly, loud annoyances and one little android that caused most of them. He can't even shift his weight without touching a dog, let alone try to hold Connor without another dog wiggling its way between them.

It began with one innocent little gift. He had no idea what would happen afterward.

\--

The day is quite dreary. Normally it wouldn't bother Hank, but the house is already feeling a little dark with the dour mood settling over them. Connor is on the floor with Sumo, lying on his side with the massive Saint Bernard. His LED has been at a near constant yellow for the past hour, revealing his poor mood.

Lately, even with more rights being granted to androids, Connor has been dealing with some real pricks, human and android alike. It's been nearly a year, but the events of the revolution are still fresh and sore in some androids' minds. They remember Connor as the deviant hunter, the Android designed specifically to detain his own kind. The android that led directly to the discovery and destruction of Jericho.

The humans he deals with still think of him as little more than a hunk of plastic without feelings. Hank wants to beat the shit out of whoever puts such a sad look on his Connor's face, but even that won't help.

With the emotional turmoil, Connor decided spending time with Sumo would help him feel better. The only problem is Sumo isn't a very cuddly dog; the Bernard is used to just living with Hank. The sudden onslaught of cuddling doesn't suit the dog much, and while he doesn't act aggressively toward Connor, he tends to not accept the android's advances, often moving away as soon as he approaches or avoiding the contact.

Watching Connor's face as Sumo gets up to leave again is the last straw. He already looks downtrodden enough after dealing with asshole people, now he has to deal with Hank's asshole dog. The look in the android's eyes is enough to make even the strongest of men weep. Hank chews on his lip in thought, thinking of a solution.

When Connor finally moves from his spot on the floor to move to the couch, Hank knows what he must do.

-

The next day is filled with nervous excitement. Hank is almost positive Connor will appreciate the gift, but he's not so sure if Sumo will. He'd left early in the morning (10 is early, right?) without telling Connor where he was going, only that he'd be back soon.

The animal shelter isn't very far from home, thank God, and they have exactly what Hank is looking for (and what Connor needs). He barely takes the time to get to know the dog, and hastily fills out the proper paperwork before he's on his way. The puppy is blessedly quiet on the ride home, content to lie curled up on the passenger seat.

Hank pulls into the driveway and notices the flash of the TV inside through the curtains. He doesn't see Connor on the couch, though, so he's likely on the floor trying to coax Sumo into some cuddles. Hank bundles the puppy in his coat, hiding it from view the best he can. It hardly moves and doesn't make a peep, but the little wagging tail might be a dead giveaway.

When he walks through the front door, he's greeted by Sumo. The dog pays too much attention to the bundle in his coat, snuffling at it excitedly, but Hank manages to shoo him away rather quickly. As he expected, Connor is sitting on the floor. His dark shirt is covered in long strands of Sumo hair, proving Hank's earlier theory correct.

"Welcome home," Connor greets pleasantly. His LED spins and flashes blue for a few moments, but it returns to that unfortunate, sad yellow once again.

"Got a surprise for you," Hank says, adjusting the puppy slightly. The pup grunts quietly and he can feel the happy tail hidden within the coat's folds. It still isn't visible, though.

Connor cocks his head to one side, brows coming together in confusion. "What is it?" he asks inquisitively. He rises from his position on the floor, approaching Hank slowly.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" Hank passes his bundled coat to the android, watching with subdued glee as Connor takes it hesitantly.

He carefully unfolds the worn fabric to slowly reveal a fat, excited puppy. His LED spins like mad, turning blue. Hank doesn't need to watch the piece of tech to see Connor's joy, however. The android's cocoa brown eyes light up like a Christmas tree, and it seems that his morose attitude has been abandoned completely.

"Hank…?" he wonders softly, looking from the puppy's sweet face to the Lieutenant.

"She's yours," he reassures. Connor grins widely and throws his free arm around Hank's shoulders, hugging the man tightly.

"Alright, alright," he grouses, but the pleased smile doesn't leave his lips. "What are you gonna name her?"

Connor purses his lips in thought. He strokes the pup's soft, tawny fur reverently, finally bringing the little black nose up to his one for a soft boop. "Pancake."

And on this holiest of days, the pup was dubbed Pancake, and she was the biggest mistake Hank ever made because she began a chain of events he was unable to stop.

\--

Red and blue lights flash incessantly, illuminating the entire block. One police officer keeps a small crowd of civilians back behind the crime scene. Hank and Connor pull up to the house, parking by the sidewalk. Connor is the first one out of the car, Hank following slowly. He is very unhappy about being woken up, but the night is still young. The case might be interesting, at least.

It's a homicide. The attack left two females, one android and one human, deceased in their own home. The incident happened earlier that night, possibly around 7pm, and neighbors realized something was going on when a black car, not matching that of the victims', sped away from the house with a revving engine and squealing tires.

Seeing the bodies makes Hank feel a little uneasy. He supposes the feeling will always remain; you don't just "get used" to dead people. If Connor is bothered, he doesn't act like it, immediately throwing himself into his work and examining the evidence. Hank pretends he doesn't see him analyzing the various fluids.

The Lieutenant looks over the file available while Connor does what he does best. The women are apparently in a romantic relationship. A hate crime, perhaps? He pours over the evidence when Connor pipes up.

"Is this knife the murder weapon?" he asks.

Another officer answers before Hank has the opportunity. "We believe so, yes. The type of wounds matches that of a knife, although they seem too clean to be from a kitchen knife."

Connor hums quietly. He kneels carefully, sampling and analyzing a bit of blood on the blade. The android frowns. "This isn't either of their blood."

Hank looks up from the file, passing it off to another officer. "Excuse me?"

"The blood on the knife. It isn't thirium, obviously, and it doesn't match that of the victim."

"So, you're telling me there's a third victim?" Connor doesn't answer for a short few moments, obviously trying to piece together the scene.

"No, there isn't. It's from our suspect, with traces of poultry." Connor continues, moving through the house and then into the kitchen. On the counter is a cutting board with raw chicken breast and vegetables set off to the side.

"The victim was preparing dinner when the suspect forced his way in the house," Connor says by way of explanation. He traces the path the victim must have taken, focused on the tiles. "He came into the kitchen, and the victim tried to fight him off."

There's a small drop of blood on the white tile. It matches the blood found on the knife. Connor doesn't stop though, retracing their steps. "He cornered them in the living room, and when he attacked, the victim defended herself." His LED spins slowly as he reconstructs the scene as he goes. "He was stabbed in the thigh, ripped the knife out, and threw it on the floor."

The kitchen knife is a meter or so away from the victims; it checks out. "They weren't able to get it back before he attacked them both fatally." Connor pauses, looking at the victims. "The weapon he used is a knife, but not a kitchen knife. The cuts are similar to those from a sharpened combat knife. The suspect must have taken it with him when he fled."

Hank claps the android on the shoulder. "Good work, Connor. Now, who did it?"

"The blood matches a John Johnson, Caucasian, aged 43," Connor confirms. Hank can't help the laugh that comes afterward.

"You're serious?"

Connor frowns, nodding. Hank only laughs harder. "Lieutenant, I hardly think this is the place to be laughing," the android scolds softly.

"I'm sorry, that name's just… hell, his parents must hate him. John Johnson. Jesus Christ. At least he'll be easy to find with a name like that." Hank wipes a single tear from his eye. He really does feel terrible about laughing at a crime scene with two deceased women on the property, but goddamn. You'd have to be a complete and utter idiot to think John Johnson is a normal and acceptable name.

"Well, let's find out where this guy lives before he realizes there's a manhunt going on," Hank suggests, the humor was gone from his tone. Connor agrees and follows the Lieutenant closely.

-

Well, the guy didn't get far. Luckily, he was still hiding out at home, trying to bandage his thigh and stop the bleeding. He'd rushed an officer when they burst in, earning him a shot to the shoulder, but neither of his wounds was lethal. Still, he was taken to a hospital to have his injuries checked out before he was shipped off for questioning.

Connor took it upon himself to search the house for any evidence of a motive. They'd found the murder weapon on the desk in the suspect's bedroom, so he could check that off the list. The house was normal. The man didn't keep anything suggesting a planned attack, nor did he have any obvious connections to an attack. The only answers they'd be getting would be from the man himself, it seemed.

The android heads outside to join his partner when he spots a dog. It's cowering, stuck on a catch pole, and very obviously terrified. He scans the animal quickly. _Male, neutered, unknown mix, seventy-eight pounds._

"Excuse me?" Connor pipes up. The officer holding the dog looks in his direction. "Is this the suspect's dog?" The android gestures toward the house.

"I assumed so. It was roaming around the house when we came in. Animal Control should be on their way to pick him up."

Connor frowns, watching the shivering dog. "That isn't necessary, actually," he says. "Lieutenant Anderson and I will take him."

Hank perks up after hearing his name. "Wait, what? What are we taking?"

"The dog. He has nowhere to go."

"Wait a second there, Connor, we can't take the dog!" Hank looks down at his partner, but he doesn't expect the look. It's somehow more pitiful than the cowering dog. "Connor, we already have Sumo and Pancake. What if they don't get along with him?"

"They will," Connor says confidently, then turns his attention back to the officer holding the dog. "We're taking him."

Hank is powerless to stop the exchange. Once Connor gets something in that little android brain of his, there's no stopping him. Hank is rubbing his temples pretty much the entire drive to the station. They fill out the necessary paperwork as quickly as they can, eager to get back home. Connor rides in the back with their new dog, stroking the animal's jet-black fur and cooing to him like a baby.

"I think his name should be something powerful," Connor says quietly.

Hank meets Connor's steady gaze in the rear-view mirror. "What's the name, then?"

Connor thinks for a moment, looking the dog in the eyes. His quivering has died down significantly, and he's even leaned into Connor's side.

"Moses," he decides.

It's not the name Hank would have chosen, but it works.

\--

It's a rare morning when Hank has to work and Connor has the day off. The android doesn't particularly enjoy these days, itching to go help at the station or spend time with Hank, but he still manages to push through the day until his partner returns home.

He doesn't need to sleep, necessarily, but lying in bed for a resting period is crucial for his continued health. It also gives the dogs an excuse to lie in bed a little longer. Pancake is squished up against his side, Sumo is at the foot of the bed, and Moses has taken up Hank's side of the bed. The mutt always leaves copious amounts of black fur on the sheets when he does that, but he enjoys the spot too much for Connor to scold him for it.

Hank won't be home for another few hours, so after Connor finishes his daily routine, he supposes he can take an extra long walk with the dogs. Maybe stop by the park and let them off leash for a while to chase a ball around.

The android rolls out of bed gracefully, fully rested, and ready for the day already. Hank used to despise his endless amount of energy, but the grouchy old man eventually got used to it. Occasionally, however, he'll utter a bitter comment into his coffee when he's feeling particularly tired.

At the sudden movement, all the dogs rouse from their sleep. Pancake is the first one out of bed, excited for breakfast, and Moses follows. Sumo will usually get around to eating when he feels like it, and the other two dogs have learned to leave his food alone until he does make the difficult decision to stumble out of bed.

Connor fills all their bowls and watches as they go to town. Sumo is up earlier than he expected, padding into the kitchen shortly after Pancake and Moses finish. Connor waits until he's finished eating to let them all outside to go potty. While they do their business, the android sets about cleaning the house. Hank always insists that he doesn't have to, that he'll do it, but Connor doesn't mind cleaning. It gets done more thoroughly when he does it, anyway. Besides, the dogs were Connor's idea and he feels a degree of responsibility for cleaning up after them.

He always leaves the door open for the dogs while he tidies up the space. Sumo is usually the first one in so he can finish his nap (or start one, however you want to view it) while Pancake and Moses bolt around the yard and play. Connor finishes his chores in record time, eager to take the dogs for their walk. It's a lovely 63.4 degrees outside without a cloud in sight. It's a good day to go to the park, and he intends to do just that.

The android calls each dog by name. Moses usually takes a while (he's not the best listener) but with a shake of their treat box, all three dogs are at Connor's side within seconds. He asks each dog to sit, then hands out the treats in the order they obeyed. They beg for another with pleading eyes; Connor says no, then finally gives in when Pancake lets out a pathetic little whimper.

While the dogs are finishing their treats, Connor gathers their leashes (and Pancake's harness; as much as he tried, he was never able to keep the pup in a collar) and locks the doors.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" he asks, not addressing any of them in particular. A wave of furry excitement barrels directly into his legs, nearly knocking him off balance. Connor laughs gleefully, somehow managing to calm them down enough to clip the leads to each collar. Pancake is a challenge, as always, but she calms down when Connor reprimands her.

With Moses and Pancake in one hand and Sumo in the other, Connor leaves the house with his dogs in tow.

-

The cool morning air is refreshing. The dogs seem to think so, too, basking in the sunlight after being let off leash. Connor gave up on trying to play fetch with them; Moses wouldn't bring the ball back, Pancake preferred sprinting around at Mach speed, and Sumo kept getting hit in the head. As much as Connor would have liked to play with the dogs, he was content watching the trio enjoy themselves.

Time passes by a little too quickly for both Connor and the dogs. They’re just getting back into playing when the time comes for them to head back home. Connor calls them back to his side (Moses hesitates for a moment but comes bounding back when Pancake obeys) and situates the leads in each hand. Moses leads the way, ignoring the sharp command from Connor. The android doesn’t press the issue, anyway.

The walk back seems to take quite a bit longer than the walk to the park. Probably because none of them _really_ wanted to leave. Moses is still leading the back, leash slack, until he catches a whiff of something interesting. The black dog practically drags Connor down the sidewalk, tail wagging a mile a minute as his nose works its way to a perfectly trimmed hedge.

“Moses! No pulling!” Connor scolds briefly. It falls on deaf ears, and soon all three dogs have their heads shoved in the shrubbery. “Leave it!”

The three dogs obey instantly, but their eyes don’t leave the bush. Connor frowns, wondering if a bird or other enticing creature is hidden within the impeccably groomed leaves. He does a quick scan and, much to his surprise, there _is_ an animal hiding in there. It isn’t a bird or squirrel, though. Tucked under weak branches is a small, malnourished dog.

Connor kneels to investigate, peeking his head in the plant. The poor dog is supposed to be white, but his fur is tarnished with oil and mud. The little creature shivers fearfully, eyes round as dinner plates.

“I won’t hurt you,” Connor reassures the dog. He slowly reaches his hand out, intending to pet the dog. It yelps and tries to escape, but there’s nowhere for him to go. He trembles in fear and even urinates a bit as the hand grows closer, but when Connor’s gentle fingers brush against his ribs, the ill canine presses into the touch.

The android frowns, perplexed. He can’t just leave it here, but should he bring it home? He barely takes the time to think about it; yes, he should bring it home.

It requires some awkward maneuvering, but eventually Connor can pull the dog out of the bush. The animal cries out in fear, shivering even harder as he’s picked up, but when Connor shields him from the prying noses of his three hounds, he calms down some more.

“Let’s get you home,” the android murmurs. The other three are beyond excited on the walk home, trying to get a sniff at the new friend, but Connor keeps him protected.

-

It isn’t an easy task, but Connor manages to bathe the little dog. A scan reveals the dog to be a rat terrier mix, five years old, nine pounds, and filled with parasites. A vet appointment is in the little dog’s near future, but for right now, he’ll focus on making him comfortable at home.

Hank will likely be cross with him for allowing the dog to stand on the table, but it’s the only way to keep the other three out of his food. Sumo left several minutes ago to lie on the couch and Pancake has calmed down a bit, but Moses is still interested in the new friend, going so far as to rest his chin on the edge of the dining table to sniff at his heels.

Connor barely registers Hank’s car pulling into the driveway, let alone the front door opening, enthralled with his new friend. Pancake and Moses erupt in a frenzy of excited barks, skittering across the linoleum to meet Hank at the door. The terrier bolts into Connor’s arms, trying to escape.

“Easy, Pancake! Quiet, Moses!” Hank grouches, hanging his coat near the door. He pets each dog for a few moments before kicking his shoes off.

“Welcome home, Hank,” Connor greets from his spot at the dining room table. “How was your day?”

“Awful.” Hank slumps down in the chair opposite Connor, rubbing his temples.

“I’m sorry,” Connor says softly. He’s about to offer more words of comfort when Hank suddenly notices the dog.

“Whoa, whoa. What the hell is that?” he demands.

Connor perks up with a smile. “Oh! I found him while I was walking the dogs!” he explains. “He was hiding in a shrub.”

“Connor, we can’t- “

“I’ve named him Froggy. He was lying on the floor earlier with his legs behind him. It reminded me of a frog’s legs. He’s part rat ter-“ Hank cuts him off.

“Connor, we can’t take another dog. We’ve already got three.”

“But… he’s so small and thin. He won’t take up much space!” he pleads. Hank groans, scrubbing his hands down his face.

“The answer is no. He can stay the night, but tomorrow morning you _have_ to take him to the shelter.” His tone leaves no room for argument. Connor’s LED whirs softly, blue to yellow and back to blue, then a steady yellow. The android nods slowly, cradling the dog in his arms.

“Alright,” he acquiesces, and it’s the most heartbroken Hank has ever heard him sound. The older man leaves Connor to cuddle the dog in silence, heading down the hallway to change into more comfortable clothes.

-

With dinner over with, Hank can finally settle on the couch and watch TV for a while. Connor hasn’t spoken much since he told him he couldn’t keep Fro- the dog. It breaks his heart, but Hank has to think about the other three.

Hank leans against the armrest with Connor between his legs, leaning against his chest. On the android’s chest is the little terrier, sleeping soundly. Moses managed to squeeze between his legs, taking up the rest of the space on the cushions. Sumo is in his bed, snoring happily, and Pancake has taken her spot in the armchair.

Connor’s LED has been switching from blue to yellow for the past hour. It bothers Hank more than he’d like to admit. At some point, Connor shifts his weight a little to lean further into the other man. The motion causes Froggy to wake up. The little mutt slowly opens his dark brown eyes, eerily similar to Connor’s own. Hank stares into them, clenching his jaw. _God dammit._

“Hey, Con?” he says, grabbing the android’s attention.

“Yes, Hank?” His tone is somber, and yeah okay, that’s a punch to the gut.

“We can keep the dog.”

Connor twists around quickly, disbelief clearly written all over his features. “Really?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah, really,” Hank mumbles. The smile stretching across Connor’s face is worth it, though. The android leans back to plant a firm, chaste kiss on Hank’s bearded cheek.

“Did you hear that, Froggy?” Connor says quietly. The terrier’s tail swishes in a slow, tired wag, almost like he understands. The android leans back and relaxes fully with a satisfied sigh, cradling the skinny dog to his chest.

It’s not the best decision Hank has ever made, and he’ll come to regret the vet bills and ungodly amount of hair the tiny dog sheds (he’ll come to weigh almost twenty pounds and lose significantly more hair than Sumo), but the new family member makes Connor happy.

\--

After an awful, no good, boring day of _paperwork_ , all Hank wants to do is enjoy a drink at home and have some alone time with Connor and their small pack of dogs. That is not what Hank gets, however. It’s not even _close_ to what he gets. When they pull in the driveway, there’s a dog on the porch. For a minute, Hank swears it’s Moses and wonders how in the hell he got outside, but upon closer inspection, it is a different dog entirely.

“What in the hell…?” he mutters, putting the car in park. Connor is out the door before Hank can stop him.

“Hey! Be careful, Connor! You don’t know if that dog’s mean or not,” he shouts after the android. Hank _knows_ Connor can hear him, but the asshole doesn’t listen worth a shit.

Soon, Hank is behind his partner, halting the eager man with a broad palm against his chest. Where did it even come from?

“Hank, I think it was dumped here,” Connor murmurs, pushing past the arm holding him back. The dog on the porch lifts its head slowly, suddenly realizing there are people here. It stands up quickly, rushing Connor with a wagging tail. The dog stops short, however, and Hank finally sees that its leash has been staked into the ground. In their yard.

“Dammit, why do people have to be such assholes?” Hank wonders aloud. “Let me call animal control.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, but in the time it takes him to do that, Connor halts him.

“Wait!” he exclaims. “Hank, I just scanned her. She’s thirteen and a _pit bull_. She’ll never be adopted if you take her to the shelter!”

Hank slaps a hand over his face. He can feel a headache coming on. “Connor, we can _not_ keep every dog we happen upon. We have four dogs! Hell, Sumo makes up two all on his own.”

Connor turns his head, shooting a look in Hank’s direction. His chocolate brown eyes are downright pitiful. Hank wouldn’t be surprised if Connor somehow managed to make himself cry just to prove his point.

“ _Hank_.” It’s just one word, but it’s said with such finality, the older man can’t help but give up.

“Jesus Christ. Fine. But if it so much as growls at one of the others, it’s gone.”

“ _She_ ,” Connor corrects. Hank doesn’t say what his mind is urging him to.

Connor leads the excited dog to the back yard, letting her loose in the fence. Hank considers leaving the back door locked so Connor can’t get back in the house, but he’s nothing if not a sap for his dog-obsessed android. The lieutenant ambles through the front door, half-heartedly greeting the avalanche of dogs, and immediately heads to the back door to let them out.

“Go on, go meet your new sister,” he grumbles. The four burst out the door in a group of furry enthusiasm, barking at the new addition as they go.

As it turns out, the old little pit bull fits in perfectly. She’s friendly toward the others and enters the house without any hesitation. Already, she acts like she owns the place. Hank is shocked, to say the least.

Connor comes in after all the dogs have flooded back into the house, chasing after their new friend with wagging tails and lolling tongues.

“What do you want to name her?” Hank asks, sighing.

Connor ponders for a moment. “Why don’t you name her?”

Hank watches the new dog make herself comfortable on the couch. She might as well have lived here her entire life. “She looks like a Princess.”

The name fits.

Princess the pittie ends up becoming Hank’s favorite, right after Sumo. She’s old, grumpy, and most importantly, _quiet_. Hank had thought she would be the last dog; five seemed _more_ than enough. Oh, how wrong he was.

\--

The pet store is one of Hank’s _least_ favorite places. It’s not the store itself, no, but Connor loves the damn place. Hank can’t count how many times a five-minute trip has turned into an hour-long outing simply because the android has to look at (and scan) _every single item on the shelf._ He doesn’t even join Connor anymore, but today they were already out and about and they needed dog food, so he begrudgingly agreed to stop in.

It ends up being a mistake.

The literal _second_ they walk in the door, they’re greeted by a chorus of barking. Connor sees the shelter sign before Hank does, and soon he’s being dragged in the direction of a small group of dogs. He gains his wits quickly.

“Connor, _no_. We have five dogs at home. We’re getting their food and getting _out_.”

“Hank, I just want to look,” Connor assures him. “I love our dogs. I don’t want another.”

Hank glares in disbelief.

“Go get the food. When you’re ready, we’ll leave.”

Hank sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why do I not believe you?” he grumbles.

He does let Connor look, though, but he searches the aisles for their dogs’ brand at lightning speed so they can get the hell out. Hank tugs the bag of Pedigree over his shoulder and grabs another, smaller bag of Froggy’s Science Diet. The little terrier had begun losing hair at an alarming rate shortly after his worms had cleared up, and another (expensive) vet visit confirmed he had a thyroid problem. It’s a shame Hank has come to love that dog.

Hank doesn’t even get to check out when Connor finds him, eyes wide. “Hank, I want him,” he says. The amount of determination frightens Hank, but he must stand his ground.

“Connor. No. We have five dogs.”

It appears the android is prepared to stand his ground, too. Shit.

“I want him,” Connor repeats. “Come look.”

Hank is powerless to resist. Defeated, the older man follows. There are six dogs available for adoption, but Hank knows Connor well enough to figure out which dog he wants. In the farthest corner sits an oddly-proportioned mutt with only three legs and one eye. Sure enough, it’s the dog that Connor has so quickly become infatuated with, his theory proven when the excited android kneels by the pop-up crate.

“ _Hank_.” Connor pleads with his eyes, reaching his fingers inside the crate to give the dog an ample amount of scratches.

“No, Connor. I’m serious.” Hank knows it’s a losing battle. He can feel his resolve slipping, and then it’s gone entirely when Connor pulls _The Look._ The lieutenant sighs heavily, clenching his eyes shut. “You’re killing me. I’m going to die, Connor.”

“We can adopt him, then?” the android asks excitedly. He knows damn well they’re taking the dog home; he just gains some sort of sick, smug satisfaction hearing Hank agree out loud.

“Yes. Fine. Jesus.”

The next several minutes are a blur of paperwork that Connor makes him fill out (“I need to get him a name tag and collar, Hank!”). The dog _is_ cute, he must admit, but damn if his pride doesn’t hurt a little bit. As much as he loves Connor, Hank really misses the days when he wasn’t manipulated with a pair of sad eyes and a pout.

What was supposed to be a fifteen-minute trip turns into an hour. What was supposed to be a quick run for lunch turns into _another new dog_. While they’re driving home, Hank still wonders why the hell he said yes. When he looks in the rearview mirror, however, he’s given his answer.

Connor is positively elated, stroking the wonky-looking mutt with a dopey smile on his face. The new name tag glints softly in the weak sunlight. In big, legible letters reads “BONSAI.”

Hank huffs out a sigh, returning his focus to the road. Dog number six. What could possibly go wrong?

\--

Amid regretting his life choices, sandwiched between Sumo and Moses, Hank notices movement out of the corner of his eye. To his right, Connor rolls over in bed. His normally perfect hair is mussed from sleep, and he has one of those small, dopey smiles reserved just for him. Even if he makes a fuss and complains about their overwhelming number of dogs, Hank realizes it’s worth it if it means he gets to see Connor like this.

“Hank,” Connor says inquisitively, voice soft, almost afraid to ruin the calm of the morning. “Should we get a cat?”

Hank’s mood has never soured so quickly.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't gonna post this but a certain someone is incredibly pushy!!  
> Anyway, thank you for reading!


End file.
